Watching Sausages

Otto von Bismarck said, “Laws are like sausages, it is better not to see them being made.” Sausages? We would have loved to have seen some sausages. We would have killed for sausages. As any Wisconsin boy can tell you, sausages cooked indirectly over mesquite coals until crispy blistered, then slathered with Stadium Sauce and nestled in butter- grilled buns under a layer of fried onions can taste pretty darn yummy.

What we got was cut-rate, irate hot dogs. The ugly spectacle of Congressional wieners pummeling each other over health care was as appetizing as mixing snail guts and lizard tripe and cephalopod eyeballs with sour cream and yellow food dye then serving it on a fungus-covered bark chip. And no, I’m not talking about the spinach dip at The Olive Garden.

This isn’t a “pox on both their houses” deal either. Like psychic vultures sensing imminent putrefaction, Republicans amplified their pontificating protestations to a high- pitched squeal; piercing enough to annoy canines all across this great Northern Hemisphere of ours. In the throes of a pseudo-religious ecstasy, one Texas Republican chummed the waters by calling a Michigan Democrat “Baby Killer” on the floor of the House, frenzying his posse of nitwit accomplices into hurling the N-word, the F-word, half a dozen bricks, a handful of death threats, several mouths full of red hot spittle, gum wrappers, a jewel encrusted black ceramic bird (the stuff that dreams are made of, two faxed nooses and possibly a bullet.

The conservative party-line claimed their Neanderthals were simply playing catch-up to the health care proponents’ lead-mitten handling of the issue, and they suggested Democrats kill the bill to quell the rising tempers. That’s right. Fan the flames of stupidity then blame the other side for the scorching climate (different from global warming). If Republican gall were congealable, we could dam the Caribbean.

And it’s STILL not over. To say the GOP is not taking this defeat lying down is like saying freeze-dried mustard clumps make for substandard Q-Tips. Within 10 minutes of the president signing the bill, a deluge of 14 state legislatures began to challenge the bill’s constitutionality. And you wonder why getting anything done in this country is like trying to shovel sand with a pitchfork.

Republicans vowed to go down swinging, and they’re probably not talking about hiking the Appalachian Trail with each other’s wives. Let’s be frank: not a single member of the minority voted for the health care bill. Not one. That’s not a political party, that’s the Borg. “RESISTANCE IS FUTILE.” The reanimated Halloween pumpkin that is Sen. Mitch McConnell remains determined to continue the construction of his cement wall of obstructionism turning “The Party of No” into “The Party of Hell No,” veering dangerously close to “The Party of Screw You!”

People may mock Obama for his Messianic glaze, but you got to relish this resurrection of health care which makes Lazarus risen look like a third-grade magician’s trick. Focus a telescope and you can make out the scuff marks on the bill’s knees from where it climbed out of the morgue drawer. Maybe now we should try handing the president seven loaves and seven fishes and see what he does with that. Or better yet, seven loaves and seven sausages.

Will Durst is a San Francisco-based political comic who writes sometimes, this being an example. His new CD, “Raging Moderate,” released this week from Stand-Up Records, is available both on ITunes and Amazon. And don’t forget, he’s hosting Showtime’s “The Green Collar Comedy Show” on Thursday, April 22 at 9 p.m.